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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27874293">Red Noses, Warm Hearts, and Thou</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WendyCR72/pseuds/WendyCR72'>WendyCR72</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Law &amp; Order: Criminal Intent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:26:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,180</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27874293</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WendyCR72/pseuds/WendyCR72</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A Christmas tale spurred on by a certain red-nosed reindeer! Only Goren and Eames can go down a reindeer-sized emotional wormhole! Read on...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alexandra Eames/Robert Goren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Red Noses, Warm Hearts, and Thou</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <i>Hello! Well, it’s Christmastime once again! In a strange year, I felt the need to keep up a small tradition of a Christmas story for the fandom. I hope you all enjoy it! You may notice a nod to my prior Halloween story, “It’s The Great Pumpkin, Bobby Goren!”</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>The Rankin-Bass characters of Rudolph, Santa Claus, and Clarice are not mine and I am making no money from them. They are just being used for a bit of Christmas fluff and shall be returned unharmed!</i></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>‘Twas two weeks before Christmas, and while at Eames’ place, Bobby Goren sat on her sofa, a frown on his face.</i>
</p><p>Or so the melody would go.</p><p>It started normally enough. Bobby had come to see Eames to help her select and decorate her Christmas tree. He would never admit it out loud, for fear of bodily injury lest he insult her pride, but Bobby always feared tiny Eames up on a ladder, stringing garland or placing the angel on top. So, he let himself be of use, using his considerable height to assist.</p><p>The day lengthened, both so wrapped up in assembling, hanging, laughing, and eating, that neither noticed the darkening clouds outside and the snow that came in with ferocity. It was not completely unexpected; the genius psychics disguised as meteorologists had mentioned a flurry.</p><p>Instead, it was like being trapped in a snow globe. And both Bobby and Alex had mused that they should have gone into forecasting instead of police work; imagine being paid so much to do the equivalent of asking a Magic 8 Ball for input…</p><p>Bobby had worried about overstaying his welcome.</p><p>To which Eames, in her usual Eames fashion, had rolled her eyes and gave a grin. “Now I have someone to watch <i>Rudolph</i> with!”</p><p>The atmosphere was cozy, the lights off save for the bright brilliance that was Eames’ tree. Both would muse, but not voice, that their teamwork had resulted in a beautifully decorated tree and home. Once more, their complementary skills had accomplished the task, this one much more pleasant than solving another murder. Alex noted Bobby had an eye in placing lights and ornaments just so. Bobby admired Alex’s use of overall design and color. And both meshed seamlessly.</p><p>He would later discover that Eames wasn’t kidding about watching <i>Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer</i>. For all of her snarky cynicism on the job, it was clear that Alex let her softer, happier side out for the holidays. With a bowl of popcorn and cocoa split between them, Alex confessed, “Watching this makes me feel like I’m five again!” as they sat back and watched.</p><p>And that’s where Bobby’s frown came in.</p><p>Remembering their prior foray with holiday specials and their debate about <i>Peanuts</i> characters a few years ago, Alex could tell, once more, that Bobby seemed to be irritated.</p><p>With an indulgent sigh, Alex tried not to grin as she decided to jump in. </p><p>“Okay, Goren. What is your objection to <i>this</i> special?”</p><p>A bit bemused that Eames could still read him so easily, Bobby relaxed his expression as he munched a bit of popcorn. Swallowing, gauging his captive audience, he was relieved to see mere curiosity, not hostility, so he figured answering was safe.</p><p>“You never noticed?”</p><p>Alex’s brow creased, her hands warmed around her mug. “Noticed what?”</p><p>Bobby nodded towards her TV. “Santa. He’s an angry, ragey user.”</p><p>Placing her mug on her coffee table, Alex scoffed, “Come on! It’s Santa!” She gave a little laugh and threw some popcorn at Bobby.</p><p>Eames’ levity seemed to soften Bobby’s cynicism, and he responded in kind with his own blast of popcorn. “Yep, Santa. He hates the elf song! He makes fun of Rudolph’s nose! And wants to deprive all those good little kids their presents because he’s afraid of snow and only used Rudolph to avoid pissing them off.” He couldn’t help it; Bobby gave a grin, enjoying the sparring.</p><p>But Bobby’s assessment stopped Alex short.</p><p>Not because he was wrong. But because it sounded too perilously close to the NYPD’s own relationship with Bobby: Calling him names but using his brilliance to make the department look good.</p><p>“Eames? Eames! Damn, I <i>did</i> piss you off,” Bobby’s mood morphed swiftly. Whatever his dumb issues with a bunch of puppets, he didn’t want to spoil Eames’ happiness.</p><p>Seeing him beating himself up again, Alex was quick to reassure him. “No, Bobby! It’s not that. It just got me thinking…”</p><p>The show forgotten for the moment, Bobby turned fully towards Alex and tilted his head in curiosity, wordlessly encouraging her to continue.</p><p>Alex shrugged, picking at some lint on her sofa. She felt a bit silly now and didn’t want to bring Bobby down. Still, she knew her partner. Knew he would push, so she decided to be honest.</p><p>“I was…just thinking that you sort of have something in common with ol’ Rudolph.”</p><p>Rubbing the back of his neck, Bobby tried to keep the mood light. “I…I can’t think of how, unless it’s the red nose. But that’s only when I overdo the Glenlivet.”</p><p>Alex finally looked at Bobby and shook her head, her features softened with a smile. “You said it, I didn’t!” She took a breath and gripped Bobby’s hand. He was momentarily startled, and when Alex would have withdrawn, thinking she was too bold, Bobby relaxed and gave her hand a firm return squeeze. </p><p>Which sent a frisson of warmth through Alex.</p><p>“But that’s not what I was thinking of.” Alex finally elaborated. “You’re Rudolph. The NYPD is bitchy Santa.”</p><p>From Bobby’s confused expression, Alex knew he didn’t get it.</p><p>“I mean…” Alex bit her lip. What the hell was it with them overanalyzing kiddie shows? She now wished she didn’t open the door. Bobby was happier than usual today and she didn’t want to bring him down. Maybe he liked the earlier spiked egg nog, maybe he just liked not being alone. She didn’t dare assume anything more.</p><p>Sighing, she explained. “Moran…the other starched suits. They’re quick to jump all over you, but they’re damned quick to use your skills to take the credit when you make them look good to the mayor!”</p><p>Bobby felt his chest constrict. He wasn’t sad. It was more gratitude that Alex would immediately be in his corner. He knew this, naturally, but to put it so starkly, he felt a renewed sense of appreciation.</p><p>“<i>Our</i> skills, Eames.” Bobby shrugged. “Don’t forget, they wanted us <i>both</i> to come back. And you…you keep me focused.” He gave another squeeze to her hand and shook his head.</p><p>“I don’t give a shit what anyone else thinks of me.” He looked away for a second, a bit shy. Turning back, he gave a small grin. “For all of the reasons I gave you to leave, you didn’t.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “And that’s all that matters to me.”</p><p>Alex cursed her suddenly moist eyes. She moved closer to Bobby and, gathering her courage, kissed his cheek.</p><p>“I wouldn’t have it any other way…”</p><p>Bobby turned and brought a hand up to Alex’s jaw, caressing it gently, and kissed her. As the kiss ended, their foreheads touched. </p><p>“Merry Christmas, Alex.”</p><p>Smiling, Alex returned the kiss, whispering, “Merry Christmas, Bobby.”</p><p>As Clarice singing “There’s Always Tomorrow” faded into their consciousness, spilling from the TV, Bobby placed an arm around Alex’s shoulder as she placed her head on his shoulder, each hoping for more tomorrows together.</p><p>It was the only present either of them needed.</p><p>
  <i>Fin</i>
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